


It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Murder

by TheXWoman



Category: Castle
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 14:29:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/675433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheXWoman/pseuds/TheXWoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A department store Santa is found murdered in a small boutique.  Meanwhile, Castle does his best to put Beckett in the mood of the holiday season.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Murder

**Author's Note:**

> Written Christmas of 2011, because we hadn't had a Christmas episode yet! Takes place mid-season 4.

It's Christmas in New York City. Carolers on corners, singing songs as their words seem to transform into puffs of condensation around their lips. Frazzled shoppers maneuver the streets, ducking in and out of decadent shops that twinkle and shine with the spirit of the holidays.  
  
And under a Christmas tree in a small shop is Santa Claus. His suit is bright and red and cheery, the deepest of reds that seems to glow under the florescent lights. His dark, scuffed shoes poke out from beneath the tree, and a dark pool of blood gathers beneath the prickly white curls of his snowy beard.  
  
***  
  
“Someone killed Santa Claus? Now that is a whole new level of naughty,” Rick Castle declared. As he and Kate Beckett tromped along the streets of New York to the Sweetwater Boutique, where the body had been found that morning, Castle stuck his numb hands underneath his arms.  
  
Beckett had her hands wrapped around an already cooling cup of coffee, trying to do her best to not let it show that the cold was getting to her. Maybe to the untrained eye it would have worked, but Castle felt bad that she hadn't worn a thicker coat.  
  
“You know it's not actually Santa Claus, right?” She teased him. Her lips were set in a frown, though, her default facial expression whenever she was coming up upon a crime scene.  
  
“Of course I know that,” he quipped. They walked by stores that glowed with the excitement of Christmas day, and his head kept snapping around, admiring the decor around them. “Santa Claus is in the North Pole right now, working away and making toys for all the little girls and boys. No way he'd be caught dead in Manhattan.”  
  
Castle laughed at his own joke and Beckett just rolled her eyes.  
  
Lanie was already hunched over the body when they entered, and Ryan and Esposito where conspiring in a corner near the door. Beckett breezed by them. “Save the conversation for the romantic fireside, boys.”  
  
They shared a look but followed her and Castle obediently towards the body, Ryan filling in the blanks as they walked. “White male, early thirties. The shift manager found him when she came in to open up for the morning.”  
  
“Heck of a present to find under the tree. But at least it was wrapped.” Esposito quipped. Beckett turned her back so she didn't have to witness the inevitable three-way-fist-bump.  
  
“Lanie, please give me something that doesn't involve Christmas jokes.”  
  
“Gladly.” She stood up and passed over a small, black wallet. “Vic's name is Henry Winchester. 32 years old, according to the driver's license.”  
  
Beckett slid out the ID and looked at it. On the cover was a clean shaven, dark haired man. Handsome. Too bad.  
  
“Cause of death?”  
  
“You're not gonna like it.”  
  
“Lanie.”  
  
With a sigh, the medical examiner leaned down. She pushed aside the tangled fake beard to expose the wound on the victim's chest. Out of it shot a long, slender, dark object and Beckett had to lean in closer to get a good look. She could feel Castle breathing down her neck.  
  
“Is that...?” Becket started.  
  
“Ohhh I think it is!” Castle squealed.  
  
“You've gotta be kidding me.”  
  
Castle nudged her aside to look closer and nodded. “That is totally an antler. You're telling me Santa got run over by a reindeer?”  
  
“I can't tell what it is until I get it back to the lab,” Lanie argued. “However, it might explain why our vic didn't have a sled license in that wallet of his.”  
  
The boys hooted in approval and Beckett shushed them all with a look.  
  
“I _hate_ Christmas,” she muttered.  
  
***  
  
Back at the twelfth, Beckett was hunched over her paperwork when Castle came sweeping it. He set a steaming cup of coffee under her nose, and she gave him a thankful smile before taking a sip. Then she made a face and gagged.  
  
“Ew, Castle, what did you put in this?”  
  
His proud face fell immediately. “Peppermint. It's a peppermint mocha.”  
  
She felt a little bad for her reaction, but she still pushed the cup away and tried to just give him a gentle smile. “Thanks, Castle, but I think I'll stick with my usual.”  
  
“Beckett, come on. It's the Christmas season. Peppermint is part of the experience.”  
  
She shook her head. “I'm not really a winter holiday kind of girl.”  
  
That made him go silent. He didn't have to ask why.  
  
Sitting down, he plucked the coffee out from in front of her and set down a fresh cup.  
  
“What's in this one?”  
  
“Your usual. I got one just in case.”  
  
She gave him a thankful smile and took a long sip.  
  
Beckett caught him up on what she knew so far. Henry Winchester had been a low-end Santa Claus for a nearby department store, and he'd gone missing not long after his shift the night before. His roommate worked nights and hadn't even known Henry was missing before Kate had called him in.  
  
Lanie had put the time of death between nine and eleven that night, long after the boutique he was found in had closed. There hadn't been any sign of breaking and entering, so she still didn't know how he had got in there, who would have wanted to kill him, or why.  
  
“The manager, Lisa, alibied out... She was at the Sweetwater Boutique’s Christmas party along with the rest of the employees. She said the doors were locked and everything looked normal when she came in.”  
  
“Except for the dead Santa,” Castle added, unhelpfully.  
  
“The roommate's out too, he was at work all night like he said. Esposito and Ryan are questioning the department store employees next door right now about their whereabouts.”  
  
“And what about the reindeer antler?”  
  
She gave him a look. It was that weird look she gave him normally, the one that either meant she thought he was cute or she thought he was annoying. Maybe both. “Still waiting to hear back from forensics, but all I know at this point is that it is not a reindeer antler. At least, not a real one. It's some kind of plastic.”  
  
Castle actually looked disappointed and Beckett couldn't help but laugh. “Castle, please do not tell me you actually thought our victim got gored by a reindeer in the middle of New York City.”  
  
“Of course not. But it would make for a better story...” He set down his coffee and held up his hands. “I'm thinking _Christmas Heat_. Nikki Heat is on the trail of what could only be a killer reindeer-”  
  
“I'm a cop, not a animal control officer.”  
  
“- Or even better. A serial killer with an affinity for reindeer wreaks havoc on the streets on New York City. Can Nikki Heat stop him before he decks the halls with boughs of blood? _Holiday Heat_ , coming to bookstores near you, Christmas 2012.”  
  
“Castle, I've got a work to do here.” But she was laughing.  
  
“Yeah, you're right. I liked the alliteration but _Christmas Heat_ has a better ring to it.”  
  
She was about to respond with the fact that she actually preferred the more alliterative title when a commotion started on near the elevators. Castle and Beckett looked up at the same time, spotting a small, young woman with dark hair, who was raising her voice to a uniform. Beckett could catch snips here and there as her tone became more high pitched.  
  
“No, you don't understand, I know exactly what happened to Henry and I need to talk to whoever is in charge here.”  
  
Castle and Beckett shared a look before they stood up and strode over towards her. The brunette woman was a mess; tears streaking down her face, and she was clutching her scarf in her hands, wringing it nervously as she spoke.  
  
Beckett nodded to the uniformed officer, letting him know she could handle it. He didn't argue and went back to his work, and Kate looked at the young woman sympathetically. “I'm Detective Beckett. Are you here about Henry Winchester?”  
  
The woman's eyes brimmed with tears again and she nodded sadly. “My name is Brandy Lewis. Henry was my boyfriend.”  
  
“I heard you tell Officer Garcia that you know what happened to him?”  
  
“Oh yes,” she said, bursting into tears again as she spoke. “I know who killed him.”  
  
***  
  
“You can't tell me you believe all of that.”  
  
Beckett actually was annoyed at his point, and she laced her fingers together and gave him a flat look. “Why wouldn't I, Castle? What's wrong? A regular murder not exciting enough for you?”  
  
“Doesn't it seem a little convenient? I mean, she just so happened to come in and tell us everything we needed to know, pointed right to the perfect suspect and the case hasn't even been open 24 hours. It's too _easy_.”  
  
“I hate to break it to you, but sometimes solving murders is pretty straightforward.” She shrugged and sat back in her chair. “We'll find out more when Ryan and Espo get back.”  
  
Twenty minutes later, they were standing in the observation room, looking into interrogation at the woman who sat there. She was tall and slim, her hair pulled up perfectly away from her face. She wore a precious little jacket with the words _Sweetwater Boutique_ emblazoned upon it, and there were tiny springs of fake holly hanging from the end of her earrings.  
  
Jackie Wiggins looked like a lot of things, but a murderer was not one of them. Which is why Castle started to think maybe she _did_ do it.  
  
He and Beckett strode into the interrogation room after letting her sweat it out for a while. But she didn't seemed swayed; she sat confidentially in her chair, toying with the corner of her nameplate until Beckett sat down across from her.  
  
And Beckett didn't lose any time. She slapped the photograph of the dead Santa Claus right on the table, her eyes locked on Jackie to see just how she would respond.  
  
“Oh my _Gawd_ ,” Jackie shrieked. “What are you doing? Are you crazy?”  
  
“Where were you last night, Jackie?”  
  
“Oh my God, put that _away_!” Jackie wiggled in her seat, and Castle stared at her knowingly. She was definitely shocked; offended by the fact that Beckett had that picture right up in her face. But she wasn't _surprised_. “I told you, I was at the company Christmas party!”  
  
“Any reason you failed to tell us that you were dating our murder victim?”  
  
Jackie went pale. For a second Castle was sure Beckett would get a confession just on that alone. But it seemed like the opportunity came and went as fast as Jackie's color.  
  
“No one asked. And we weren't dating, we screwed a couple times but it didn't mean nothing. I don't see what the big deal is.”  
  
“The big deal is that Henry Winchester wound up dead in the shop you work in and you didn't bother to note that you were sleeping with him. Or that you owed him money.”  
  
Jackie's eyes darkened. At this point, she knew they had got their information from someone, but Castle wasn't sure if she knew who. “I didn't owe him anything. I told that dirt-bag I would sleep with him to even the score and even afterward he was still up my ass. A girl's gotta make her apartment payment somehow.”  
  
“And pay her salon bills,” Castle muttered, staring at Jackie's perfectly manicured acrylic nails.  
  
“Wait, I'm sorry, are you admitting to soliciting sex in exchange for the victim helping you pay your bills?” Beckett asked.  
  
That was apparently the final straw, and Castle saw the moment that Jackie shut down. “I ain't admitting nothing. I want a lawyer.”  
  
***  
  
Grey clouds clung to the sky, sagging over the city as the shops came alive once again with shoppers. All but Sweetwater Boutique, which was still roped off with crime scene tape.  
  
Beckett thought she smelled the scent of oncoming snow cutting through the usual stink of pollution, restaurants, and smoke. Her breath collected in puffs in front of her face, and she was more than happy at the prospect of escaping the sting of the cold as she and Castle walked back to the crime scene.  
  
She hung up her cell phone and shoved it into her pocket. “Jackie's alibi checked out. She was definitely at the party. She left for twenty minutes, but that isn't long enough to kill Henry, move the body three blocks down and plant it here.”  
  
“Not unless she has Santa's magical powers of travel,” Castle replied, holding up the crime scene tape for Beckett to duck under.  
  
The Sweetwater Boutique was certainly decked. It glowed with the warmth of the holiday season, and even Beckett allowed herself a tiny moment of stolen solace in the memories the twinkling lights provided.  
  
She thought she had been subtle, but it wasn't subtle enough for her partner.  
  
“You know, Alexis and I are going to decorate this week. You're more than welcome to come over.”  
  
“I don't decorate.” She pulled herself from the lights and refocused her attention on the crime scene. “If there's anything here that connected Jackie Wiggins to the case, we need to find it.”  
  
“Finding the rest of the murder weapon might be a good start,” Castle replied. “Did forensics have any idea?”  
  
“Whatever it is, it's painted with basic acrylics and it looks like it broke off something bigger. Apparently the acrylic used is common in model paint.”  
  
They began to look around, poking through overpriced items and triple-checking for anything beneath the displays. Beckett paused again in front of the Christmas tree where the body had been found, and stared at it fondly.  
  
“Why don't you decorate?”  
  
She turned around to see Castle digging under some fake snow, but he was looking at her. “What?”  
  
“You said you don't decorate? Why not?”  
  
“I live alone, Castle. What's the point?”  
  
“To get in the Christmas spirit? To enjoy the holidays? To have an excuse to get drunk on eggnog and kiss someone under the mistletoe?”  
  
She tilted her head at him as he moved under a small display of boxed Christmas ornaments. Distracted, she twirled a lock of hair between her fingers. “Holidays were always my mom's thing. After she died I just didn't see the appeal anymore.”  
  
“There's still appeal. Maybe you just need to spend it with the right people to see it again.” He wasn't looking at her anymore because he was still digging underneath the display. She blushed when she realized she was staring at his butt. “You should come over for Christmas Eve,” he continued, his voice muffled by the display. “You and Alexis can make cookies and stay up all night waiting for the click-click-click of reindeer hooves on the ceiling.”  
  
As he went on, Beckett rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the Christmas tree. It was a really nice tree, actually; covered with ornaments of every shape and size. A small reindeer with a brilliantly colored saddle hung from a spring of pine, the glitter on its antlers catching the light of the tree and shimmering brilliantly.  
  
“Model paint...” Beckett mused. “Castle, I think I know where to find the rest of our murder weapon.”  
  
There was a crashing noise and Kate turned, watching Castle try and weasel his way out of the pile of ornaments he'd sent careening to the ground. He stood up and dusted himself off. “Whoops.”  
  
Seven minutes and three blocks later, Beckett and Castle were coming up on the small, hole in the wall restaurant Noddy's Noodles, the restaurant that had hosted the Sweetwater Christmas party the night before. The smell of warm pasta mingled with the bite of snow in the air, and they paused outside, looking up at the roof of the building. Castle could make out the systematic light movements of the Christmas decorations on the roof, surrounding a beautiful, life-sized display of a sled and eight reindeer.  
  
“There's roof access around the back,” Castle said, having already caught up to Beckett's thought process.  
  
They climbed the fire escape, heaving in frozen air as they rose higher and higher. Beckett pulled her jacket tightly in the chill of the wind as they moved across the roof to the carefully arranged Christmas display near the ledge.  
  
The sled was nearly life-sized, but not quite, she realized, now that Beckett was standing next to it. The eight reindeer were wrapped with glittering lights, but they were also painted realistically with different shades of brown, smooth paint. Beckett started on one end of the reindeer line and Castle on the other, and they both squinted past the lights as they walked down the line, looking for the missing puzzle piece that could bring the picture together.  
  
They met in the middle, and stood staring at the glowing evidence in front of them.  
  
“Ho ho ho,” Castle said, flatly.  
  
“Prancer, you're under arrest for murder,” Kate told the plastic reindeer with the missing antler.  
  
***  
  
Jackie Wiggins was back in the interrogation room, and Kate Beckett was staring her down.  
  
“My lawyer should be here,” Jackie said.  
  
“He will be, soon enough, but I figured I would give you a little heads up. We found your fingerprints all over the reindeer that you used to impale Henry Winchester. The game's up, Jackie.”  
  
Castle was leaning against the wall behind Beckett, a small smile playing over his lips as he watched Jackie's face dissolve into panic. “What?”  
  
“We know you killed him,” Castle clarified. “Now what we want to know is why Brandy Lewis helped you.”  
  
“It was her idea!” Jackie yelled. Beckett was startled for a split second; long enough for Castle to notice, but no longer.  
  
Kate regained her bearings expertly, and pressed her palms onto the table. “Brandy found out you were sleeping with Henry and she contacted you. We know that much from your phone records. You owed him money you didn't want to pay and she was angry at him for cheating on her. How did it turn into murder, Jackie?”  
  
Jackie's cool facade was beginning to buckle. She looked at Beckett and sobbed a little. “We didn't mean to kill him. We took him up there to scare him – we didn't think, what with him still being dressed up as Santa, anyone would notice with the sled and reindeer and crap. But Brandy got madder and madder and she pushed him and... By then it was too late to do nothing. I gave her the keys to the store so she could go wash up and I could go back to the party without anyone noticing I was gone.” Jackie's eyes were brimming with tears, now, and Castle almost felt bad for her. She was stupid, but she didn't seem like the murderous type.  
  
“I didn't think she'd dump the body or blame the whole thing on me. I thought we had bonded or something, that she'd keep it a secret because we were on the same side.”  
  
Beckett balked. “You watched her murder another human being and then cover it up, Jackie. What side did you think she was on?”  
  
And then the lawyer showed up. After that it would all be banter and plea bargaining and Castle never paid much attention afterward. That wasn't the part anyone wanted to read, anyway.  
  
***  
  
It was Christmas Eve and the twelfth was vacant. Except for Beckett, who sat at her desk staring blankly at a pile of paperwork. Anything pressing was totally finished, and she was still on the high of finishing up a case, and she had no reason to still be a work.  
  
Besides the fact that going home to an empty apartment on Christmas Eve was particularly pathetic, even for Kate Beckett.  
  
Her phone chirped and she picked it up, her eyes narrowing at the screen.  
  
` NEW MESSAGE FROM CASTLE  
My place. 911.`  
  
She didn't hesitate. She grabbed her coat and ran out the door.  
  
***  
  
He was standing outside his apartment when she came sprinting, and he looked fine. She doubled over and caught her breath, finally straightening up to glare at him.  
  
“Castle, what's wrong?”  
  
He smiled impishly. “I have a surprise for you.”  
  
“Your message said 911.”  
  
“Well, yeah, I knew you wouldn't come down here otherwise.” He laced his fingers together and looked at her expectantly.  
  
Seething, Kate crossed her arms and shot him the dirtiest look she could muster. She wanted to walk out just to spite him, but it didn't seem worth the fight. She was already there, and whatever he had to show her was important enough to him.  
  
And it wasn't like she had anything better to do, anyway.  
  
“Okay, fine, what is it?”  
  
With what looked like it was a little bounce, Castle moved down the hallway towards her. “Okay. Close your eyes.”  
  
She opened her mouth to argue with him, but there was something about the open, excited look on his face that stopped her. Hesitantly, she closed her eyes.  
  
Kate sensed him walk around her, and his hands hovered for a moment before resting gently on her hips. She breathed out and let him guide her towards his door and into the warmth of his apartment.  
  
The smell of pine and gingerbread filled her nose, and instrumental Christmas music played ever so quietly. Beckett's hands went out instinctively, and she was sure that she heard Martha giggle from somewhere in the room. There was another whisper and then Castle shushing.  
  
“Castle...”  
  
He shushed her too and her mouth snapped shut. Finally, he slowed her to a stop and his hands moved from her hips, leaving a slight chill where the warmth of his palms had been. “Okay, now... open your eyes.”  
  
She did. At first, she squinted in the light of the room. She took a minute to look around at the decorations Castle and Alexis had clearly painstakingly put up around the beautiful apartment. And then her eyes came back to where Castle had centered her. Kate was standing in front of a small, counter-top Christmas tree.  
  
It was decorated with sparkling ornaments. The first she noticed was the little reindeer from the Sweetwater Boutique. But as she looked closer, she realized every single ornament was reminiscent, one way or another, of the cases and experiences they'd had together. There was a tiny pair of handcuffs Castle had obviously fished out of a quarter machine, and a perfect, small replica of the cover of _Heat Wave_. There were also a few photographs framed in paint-puffed-covered Popsicle sticks. One of her, Ryan, Esposito and Montgomery; one of her and Castle; and one of her, her dad, and her mom.  
  
Swallowing down the emotion she felt bubbling up, she turned her head to look at him and then looked back at the little tree. “Castle, it's beautiful.”  
  
“I thought... since it's small you could take it home with you. You know, not too much effort to take up and put down every year.”  
  
It took her a moment to blink back a few tears, and by then, Alexis and Martha had hopped up from the couch and were hovering around her.  
  
“Oh, darling, look, she's overcome!” Martha announced dramatically.  
  
“Grams, quiet. Dad's been working on this since Thanksgiving, haven't you dad? I helped him make the picture frames.” Alexis explained.  
  
“The little book was _my_ idea!” Martha added.  
  
“You should stay, I was just about to make real eggnog, you know, from scratch, I googled this recipe...”  
  
Beckett looked up and caught Castle's gaze. He smiled at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he indicated a little eye-roll while his mother and daughter went on and on. Kate couldn't help but smile back at him, and it was a short moment locked in time. Beckett didn't need any convincing; she had already decided to stay, for a little while. It didn't seem right spending Christmas in darkness, not when she had the opportunity to spend it surrounded by twinkling lights, laughter, and just the right kind of people.


End file.
